Where There Once Was a Desk

  Behind the scenes of Barnard’s mass staff layoffs. 

By Natalie Buttner 

Illustration by Derin Ogutcu

The Barnard Class of 2029 arrived on a sunlit day at the end of August. RA’s paraded carts filled to the brim with clothes, books, and dorm furniture down the sidewalk. Guests donned bright wristbands as orientation leaders cheered them onto campus. Laura Rosenbury even graced the gates, making a swift pass through crowds of student workers and staff as they facilitated an emotional and logistical feat. Elevators clogged. Trashcans overflowed. New roommates gave stiff hugs in the long narrow hallways of the quad, supervised by tearful guardians. 

While Barnard freshmen stepped out into the summer air of their first night of independence, Lina Del Valle was saying goodbye to her longtime community, hugging and receiving gifts from coworkers and students. 

Del Valle was a beloved character in Brooks Hall. She started at Barnard in 2009 doing weekend shifts from 5:30 p.m. to 1 a.m., taking a bus to a ferry to a train to get to work from her home in Staten Island. When she started at the college, the youngest of her sons was only a couple of months old. 

“It was a lot for me,” Del Valle said. “But I did it because I felt like when I got there it was worth it because I’m one of those people. I became almost like a mama bear there. So it’s like, once I would get to work, I would feel so good to be there and so happy to just see my everyday girls. I used to call them my ‘everyday girls.’” Since then, she said she has worked “every shift imaginable” at Barnard, finally settling into working Monday through Friday, 7 a.m. to 3 p.m. at the entrance desk to Brook’s Hall. 

De Valle was one of 77 Barnard employees who received a layoff notice on July 31. Her final day on the job would be August 28, the day after move-in. The layoffs were distributed regardless of seniority. However, members of Local 2110 United Auto Workers and Transport Workers Union 264 were afforded bumping rights. This system allowed those with seniority to bump their termination to a newer hire. Some were frustrated that they had to employ the bumping rights system. Fired employees were forced to choose their own job at the expense of someone else’s, causing tension in a once close-knit community of employees. 

De Valle had the seniority to ‘bump’ another employee, and could have kept her job by passing her termination to someone else. But De Valle chose to leave at the end of the month. She said uncertainty factored heavily into her decision. “I said to myself, if I stay, things perhaps are not going to be the same, and I’m going to feel that anytime they can bring me off again, and this time, it will be for good.”

Even for employees that remain at Barnard, uncertainty continues. 

Marrero said he had worked his way up from custodian to head building mechanic during his 26 years at Barnard. He is also the Executive Vice President for Transport Worker Union 264, the union that represents Barnard safety and security division, facilities and maintenance, housekeeping, and food services. 

“I was told I was laid off, and then I was given a custodial position from 4 to 12:30 at night, which, to me, basically is them saying we're going to give you whatever position we’ll feel like, if you don’t like it, quit,” he said. “So it’s almost like they’re trying to make me quit by giving me this position and this schedule.”

Marrero said he had worked hard to get his ideal schedule, weekdays 8 a.m. until 4:30 p.m. Now, he arrives at his home in Harlem at 2:30 a.m. He said his walk home late at night is hard. 

Jasmine Rodriguez is a union steward for Local 2110 UAW, and has been an access attendant at Barnard for six years. Local 2110 UAW represents Department Assistants, Access Attendants, A/V Technicians, Library Specialists, Administrative Assistants, among others. She said that the way that the layoffs were carried out contributed to the difficulty of the transition. She felt the layoffs were “disrespectful” and that the college had failed to appreciate or recognize the longtime commitments of many of the employees who were laid off. 

Though workers who remain after the layoffs expressed that they understand the college is under financial strain, they said communication surrounding the layoffs has been difficult. Barnard faculty, staff, and students received news of the layoffs on the same day that termination notices were released. Rosenbury described the layoffs as part of a “one-time, College-wide restructuring,” though there has been little public clarification as to how the college has been restructured. 

Though not explicitly mentioned in the statement, the layoffs are surely linked to Barnard’s growing debt crisis. An August 2024 report from S&P Global disclosed that Barnard had approximately $226.3 million in outstanding debt. In the face of existential financial hardship, Barnard College is forced to make decisions, whittling away everything deemed frivolous to its values. Now students, staff, and faculty are left wondering, what values are powering the college-wide restructuring, and who is deciding what they are? 

In an interview with The Columbia Spectator, Barnard President Laura Rosenbury attempted to provide assurance about the layoffs. “So, obviously, it was only staff positions that were eliminated; no faculty positions were eliminated,” she said. While the statement may have comforted those only concerned with the academic sphere at Barnard, it seemed to ignore the vital role that staff play in the community. Local 2110 UAW ran the quote on a flyer distributed to students. The front of the flyer contains information about the layoffs, as well as the slogan: “Barnard works because we do.” 

Rosenbury explained that the eliminated staff positions were in part, “designed to help us better collaborate across units, better take advantage of technology and technological changes.” This technology includes ID-accessible turnstiles, which have already been implemented in the basement of Milstein and Milbank, and are anticipated to be added to the Quad in the near future. 

Numerous access attendants doubt that turnstiles will be capable of doing what they do. They bring up the personal aspects of the job and the odd tasks that they help their residents with. They also mention darker situations, when they have questioned and refused admittance to unwanted men following drunk girls up to rooms. 

A college is more than its leadership. After the chaos of move-in day and convocation, President Rosenbury returned to her work in her guarded office in Milbank. Outside, routines enmesh, faces become familiar. Those of us who live our lives here know the college by its people. 

A week after her final day, Lina Del Valle was getting ready to start a new job, walking distance from her house. She bubbled with gratitude over her time at Barnard, remembering her community there. 

“When I think about Barnard, I think about my girls,” said De Valle. “I have a box full of letters and notes that I keep.” 

De Valle’s desk in Brook’s Hall has now been removed. Barnard freshmen tap in and out of the quad through the entrance in Sulzberger. Next year, the class of 2028 will never know any other greeting than the beep of the ID card when returning home. 

“I always told my students, I always would encourage them in the morning: ‘have a great day, my love,’” De Valle said. “The feeling was given right back for me. Everything, all the love that I gave them, was given right back for me, and I will forever be [hopeful] about it. I will always think about Barnard that way.”